


Royal Privilege

by RHoldhous



Category: Code Geass
Genre: F/M, Impregnation, Incest, Porn With Plot, Smut, f/m - Freeform, mature - Freeform, monster cock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2019-10-25 01:11:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17715209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RHoldhous/pseuds/RHoldhous
Summary: Lelouch has been keeping a shameful secret from his mother for so long that when she catches him in the act, he can think of nothing but the worst. And yet Marianne has other ideas. An Open Story





	1. Chapter 1

**Note: This story is a work of fiction. It has many content of adult nature. If you do not want to read such content, please close your browser window or press the convenient back button.**

* * *

Prince Lelouch vi Britannia felt that his life was officially over.

That was not an exaggeration. Here he sat, despondent and brooding, in his own quarters in the quaint but sumptuous Aries Villa, contemplating quite a number of unhealthy dangerous things. His pulse was agitated, his thoughts racing a thousand miles a second. In one moment, he had seized his portable computer interface and had typed up the foreword to an extremely long-winded Last Will and Testament, before discarding it with a nervous shudder. In the next moment he had buried himself underneath the covers of his bed, thinking to suffocate himself, but found that he couldn't even manage to hold his breath beyond five seconds.

His eyes kept returning to the place of wall beside his unused fireplace. He frowned at it, threw wads of paper at it, even insulted it like it was one of his more snobbish half-siblings. Then, he retreated back to his bed, as if it were his very last refuge, his final bastion.

He was already a young adult, damn it! He wasn't on the cusp of puberty, nor even trapped in the ravages of puberty! He had already cast that awkward phase aside long ago! He had already had these useless feelings of hedonistic lust during the earlier part of his days at the university, and he was rightly proud to have carried himself admirably with the sheer stoicism of the perfect gentleman, unlike his peers. Sure, there had been a fling or two, as things usually went, but nothing evolved into anything serious. And he had then graduated from university with all the highest honors, with his reputation clean and unblemished.

Then why, Lelouch asked himself, would such a brilliant man have committed such a completely stupid and reckless thing? Had he lost his mind?

It had all started on that day when Clovis had visited, and had given him the seed that blossomed into such a stupendously horrid idea in his brain.

No, on second thought, to be fair to his half-brother the Third Prince, it was clear and logical that such a disaster had its roots further back, in the distant past. At least in this case, Lelouch could still marshal his considerable faculties to distance himself and look at things with an objective eye.

Things had never been the same for Lelouch ever since he had spied his half-brother Arius making love to the Consort Felicia, who was his own mother. It had even been a delicate time for Lelouch, as he had also just learned that the interplay between man and woman went much beyond just "kissing". It was a savage, animalistic thing that nevertheless brought great pleasure. Yet it had always been taught that such dalliances were exclusively between people who were  _not_ related. The "mixing of blood" was a grave sin, outlawed in the Empire.

What didn't help Lelouch in this case were the intense rumors circulating around Court that a certain pair of half-siblings had also been engaging in sinful intercourse. Whispers of "incest" and "taboo" only served to fire up Lelouch's youthful imagination. When the Knights of Round had acquired decisive evidence, leading to the exact identities of the culprit being known, the last thing on Lelouch's mind was his father the Emperor's harsh reprimand of disowning his children: no, it was in imagining those two in a sexual position.

Seeing the incestuous mother-son couple getting it on so fiercely made Lelouch's intentions to bring them down falter, as he was greatly fascinated to seeing something so taboo. And from then on, a seed had been planted in his mind.

He would never look at his mother the same way again.

It wasn't helped that the consort Marianne was considered one of the more beautiful of all the Emperor's consorts. Chosen for her flawless beauty, independent spirit, and prodigious skill with a Knightmare, she cut a striking figure in Court. Her slender, toned frame was accentuated by delicious curves that had been rounded by motherhood, with a generous bosom and luscious hips that lent much to the imagination. And her personality was unique: cold and domineering in public, seeing almost everybody as if they were enemies in her Knightmare's interface; and in private a sweet, doting mother who did her very best to spoil him and Nunnally.

Lelouch's feelings of devotion towards his mother had been corroded when he saw that incestuous couple. It was child's play to hide his feelings, and never once let it slip that he saw his own mother as "attractive", not even to Nunnally. It was equally easy to hide his masturbatory sessions where he jerked it off liberally to the recorded evidence of Arius and his mother, as well as (to his eternal shame) racy, candid pictures of his own mother, which had been confiscated from would-be papparazi.

Still, he would have managed even then. It would only have been his dirty little secret, which he vowed to carry to the grave. However, Clovis had then come along. He had heard that Lelouch had used the many subterranean tunnels and secret rooms in Pendragon Palace as a reference point for his graduate thesis.

"Of course, such knowledge is an open secret to us of the Blood, who have been taught of those since birth," Clovis opined with a shrug. "But did you know that such secret places are everywhere in the capital? For example, in mine own estate, and even the Aries Villa, Lelouch. I thought you would be interested to know that."

"Really? I hadn't given a thought to that."

"I had not had time to explore my own estate—Area Eleven demands my full attention—but maybe you can? I have let my staff know. They shall let you in and help you plumb its secrets."

Lelouch had declined to commit, only promising to look it up when he had the chance. However, his curiosity was piqued by Clovis' off-hand comment about Aries Villa. It was his childhood home, but he hadn't even seen its every secret yet.

In hindsight, he would've been better off not indulging his curiosity.

There was a secret passage, alright, and it led to a common tunnel that led down to a cellar, from where an entrance to the underground sewers could be reached. The common tunnel itself was fed by several passages, all leading from each of the rooms in the villa, accessible by secret mechanisms. For instance, rearranging the furniture in Nunnally's room revealed the entrance.

Hypothetically then, one could go into the tunnel, then head  _up_ the passage to someone else's room. With relevance to Lelouch's current predicament, however, he had discovered that out of all the rooms, only his mother's quarters had a defect, wherein someone inside the passage could peer  _into_ her room. Which was what Lelouch did, the first time he discovered it. Yet again, in hindsight, it was something he shouldn't have done.

Marianne had been there, his first time. She was partly undressed, her back turned to him as she examined herself in front of her vanity. Lelouch had held his breath, surprised by this shameless peek into his mother's privacy. Then his mother began to strip, ostensibly to change into other clothes. For Lelouch, it was like he was once again in his most private fantasies.

It was one thing to see glimpses of her naked flesh in the pictures, it was quite another to see her bare herself completely, unfolding before him like a ripe fruit as he could only stand and watch. His desires flared up when she turned around, and he could see her mammaries in full, two plump orbs that jiggled when she moved. Then she stripped off the rest of her, and for a long moment Lelouch beheld his mother in her full nakedness, causing him to finally go into full arousal.

Seeing Marianne in her full glory caused the bindings on Lelouch's sanity to snap: on that day he masturbated furiously into his trousers as he watched his mother secretly. From then on, nothing was the same. He had gotten addicted to being a voyeur, and jacking it off to the sight of his mother's body. He'd memorized Marianne's daily routine. Everyday he would sneak off into the secret passages and watch her, finding pleasure in the mere sight of her. Even when she just sat or lay there, reading or watching news on the terminal, Lelouch would still find something arousing about his mother, and would start stroking his cock regardless.

The Big Mistake that happened today, then, was nothing short of a disaster. He'd been just in the middle of jacking off, his trousers around his knees, when he felt something tickle his thigh. In hindsight, it was only his belt, which had been stuck in an awkward position, but sheer reflex had made him jump and bump against the secret door with a loud  _thump._ Lelouch instantly froze, and saw that his mother had too.

Then Marianne had lunged, grabbing a dagger from her drawer in record timing before turning to face the secret entrance. Lelouch didn't even have time to pull up his pants before hurtling into the common tunnel, his legs running as fast as he was able.

"So you DARE to spy into a woman's room, cur? I'll have you—" Marianne's voice echoed into the passage. Then Lelouch heard something that felt as if his mother had really hit him with her knife. "—Wha,  _Lelouch_?"

Unable to face his shame, he continued on into his room, where he quickly closed his secret door and tidied himself, before locking the main door to the hallway and jumping into his bed. His hands felt cold, his mind awhirl.

This all, then, was the root his current predicament.

There came a knock at the door. He froze, expecting the worst. It was the servant, who wanted to know if Lelouch would have his meals at the dining hall or in here. He shooed the servant away, telling them that he wouldn't be leaving his room for the time being and to tell Nunnally and his mother that.

A long time passed, or so it seemed to Lelouch. The shame had thus paralyzed him, that he gave up on even planning a way to explain himself. His mother had caught him red-handed with his pants down. There was no other explanation for  _that_.

A noise caught his attention. He looked and saw, with disbelief, a rope descend into view outside his window, before his mother slid down them, looking like a civilian rescue worker come to liberate him from his predicament. She knocked pointedly at his window, causing him to scramble to open it, before he hesitantly took her hand and guided her inside.

Then, remembering what had happened, he made to flee, but was instantly caught within Marianne's embrace, his head literally cushioned within his mother's bosom. He inhaled deep of her raw scent, so familiar to him, a smell that comforted him despite all the guilt he felt.

"I know," his mother said. "I know, dear. There's no need to be afraid, Lelouch. You only did what any healthy young male did."

He blinked. "B-but it's—"

"And we are royalty, my dear," she continued. "Much of the same rules of the outside don't apply to us. Especially not to the wife and son of the most powerful monarch on Earth."

"Wait, but mother that's—"

"Of course, we have to keep this our secret. Can't have us go the way of those fools who got caught by Bismarck, now can we?"

"Mother," he said insistently, taking her attention. "Do you even realize what you're saying?"

She shrugged. "It's nothing, dear. It's just sex. You've had sex before, right?"

He swallowed. "W-well, yes—"

"So what's the big deal? It's just a little exercising of our bodies. Nothing wrong with that."

"But isn't it… taboo?"

She patted his head. "It's only taboo, dear, if the blood mixes. A child born from incest is a taboo thing. That's why we're not to have our blood mix. We have birth control. This is the 21st century."

For the moment, Lelouch was speechless, as if his brilliant mind had nowhere else to go, nothing else to think. He snapped his mouth shut. "Uh, but… well, this is strange… and awkward…"

"Ah, to be young," his mother said with a laugh. A fond look came over her. She began to caress his body, sending shivers over every surface she touched. "Twenty-two years and you're already a strapping young lad. My precious baby, now a man."

"M-mother…" he said, blushing.

"Do you think I'm still beautiful?" she asked, in a whisper.

"I—I—" What other answer was there? Of course she was still jaw-droppingly beautiful! And this close he could see the evidence before his eyes, could behold her beauty, could feel the heat of her gorgeous body against his. "Of course, mother. Father is lucky to have you."

"Hmph. Well said," she said with a huff, before leaning forward and kissing him. He was again caught off-guard. She withdrew quickly. It was only a quick peck. "But enough about Charles. Mommy's in a good mood today, and you're the lucky man, my son. If you'll have this old lady of course."

Desire welled within Lelouch. He hugged her back fiercely, and ground his erection against her. She could feel that clearly, and she chuckled as she began to touch him in ways a mother should not towards her child.

"So um…" he said, still tongue-tied.

"You don't know how to begin?" she said, as if reading his mind clearly. "Really now, Lelouch, have you really had sex before?"

"O-of course!" he said, cheeks red. "But this time is rather different don't you think, mother?"

"Is that so?" she said, drawing his head against her neck. Their bodies rocked together as if slow dancing to some unheard music. "Then, let Mommy show the way, my son. Leave it to mother."

He grunted in assent.

Their lips met once again, but this time Marianne went further and touched his tongue with hers. The first outwardly incestuous act had begun, and Lelouch enjoyed every second of it. His mother moaned as their tongues danced and curled like writhing snakes around each other, exchanging their saliva freely between their mouths. Marianne's embrace tightened as they continued making out, testing each other's texture and heat as their forbidden kiss deepened.

He was so lost in this kiss that he barely noticed that they were slowly edging towards the bed. When his legs hit the side of the bed, his knees buckled and he ended up falling backward on top of it. Despite that, Marianne followed him down, and continued to press her body against his. With her on top of him, they continued to make out, even as their hands grew ever friskier. Boldly, Lelouch cupped his mother's round ass-cheeks and molded them in his hands.

Before he knew it, Marianne had undone his belt, and pulled down his trousers while maintaining the kiss. The sudden rush of cold mixed in with the heat he felt from his mother's thighs. Her hands groped over the obvious erection hidden in his underwear, her attention causing it to grow ever further. Then, she pulled even that down, freeing his cock from its tent.

"My cute baby boy," she whispered, her voice rich like velvet. Her hand closed around his cock, and began to stroke it. "My cute, strong baby boy. Now you're a man, and I love you so, so much."

"Mother," he said pleadingly. He made to move.

"Hush now," she said, placing a hand to his chest. "I told you to leave it to Mommy."

He watched as she positioned her body above him, wiggling her hips until her crotch was poised above him. As she was currently wearing her night dress, his mother had only to pull it up to make Lelouch realize she wasn't wearing  _any_ panties at all. She had a small tuft of black pubes, through which he could see a glimpse of her pink slit. Seeing it, as well as the way Marianne was moving it above his erect cock, made Lelouch apprehensive. She produced a condom wrapper from out of nowhere, and with a deft motion ripped it open and placed the condom on top of his cock.

But all his doubts were swept away when his mother made good on her promise, as she pushed her hips down to envelope his member inside her wet, hot folds. As each inch of his length sank into her, Lelouch gasped and whined at the sheer, sudden pleasure that awaited him. No girl's cunt had been as glorious, as tight and slick and wonderful, like a living organism in itself, than that of his Mother's wrapped tightly around him. And then, when he saw her face twist, as if trying to hold in her pleasure, Lelouch could hardly hold back. He thrust up violently, before exploding, his cock blasting into the condom at full speed. Marianne waited patiently as his cock convulsed within her, holding on to him like he was a sick child in need of care.

"Ah… oh my, I didn't think you were a quick shot, Lelouch…"

"Uh…that is…" he said, his shoulders slumping.

"I was just kidding," she said, lifting her hips up and expertly flicking the condom off him. In the next second she had ripped open another wrapper and had placed it on his still erect cock. "That surely was just your pent-up energy from before wasn't it? Before you were interrupted in masturbating."

"I—maybe?"

She smiled, like the both of them were enjoying some private joke and not involved in some incestual intercourse, before plunging his cock right back inside her. Lelouch let out another cry as he was barraged by yet more pleasurable sensations, but since he'd just came he was able to manage. It still felt dangerous, however, as his mother's cunt was so deliciously tight and pliable, that he was sure he was going to cum soon.

Thankfully, Marianne was too distracted by savoring the feel of him inside her. He was so thick and long, and it had been a long time since she'd indulged in this carnal embrace. The way Lelouch fitted into her was like a key sliding neatly into place inside a lock, completing her like no other could. Therefore, despite her promise of guiding Lelouch through this, her inner desires had woken, and to Lelouch she appeared like a maddened creature, who pressed his body down while furiously bouncing her hips on top of his.

Lelouch could only tense and wheeze as her velvety insides continuously teased and tightened around him. It was almost like her vagina was some mechanical object she could operate on command, so fierce and precise was her assault on his member that he held on to the sheets as if he were in danger of falling.

Her frenzied state aroused similar sentiments in him, though, as the reality slowly sunk into Lelouch's mind. His mother, whom he'd fantasized about for so long, had her cunt wrapped tight around him. It was a dream come true, and that desperate need to hold on to this pleasure made Lelouch push upward with his hips, mashing their crotches together in the lewdest ways possible. A loud, nasty squelching sound now filled the room as the two of them gave in to their basest instincts.

"Mother… mother…!"

"Yes..! Oh, yes! Fuck! Yes, baby, yes, give it to me! Give it to me!"

Because of the heat they now felt, the two of them took turns taking off the other's clothes. Lelouch almost ripped his mother's dress away in his haste to sample her naked breasts. When they were finally free to dangle in front of him, he pushed his face inside the valley in-between, while using his hands to knead both breasts.

Marianne now altered the motions of her hips, gyrating them as she ground her son's cock into her inner walls. She swayed from side to side. She bucked up and down, like she were riding an unruly horse. Her random movements, so much like a trained dancer, coupled with the rhythmic tightening of her hot, slick insides caused no end of pleasure for Lelouch.

Now that he felt his climax was close, Lelouch was determined not be such a "quickshot". His previous sexual experiences wasn't even close to that, and the fact that his mother had seen it made his pride rankle. And so, he seized her body, then used her preoccupation to allow him to flip her downward on the bed, from where he mounted her from above. He positioned himself above her twitching vulva. Then, before Marianne could say anything, he buried his cock balls deep into her, all the way to his root. She moaned hotly, as if she greatly appreciated that. After a few moments of thrusting into her once more, Marianne wrapped her legs around his waist, and locked her ankles together. Then, he sealed her mouth with a kiss. The warm, slippery sensation of their tongues dancing together aroused him further, spurred him to thrust into his mother with reckless abandon.

By now he could sense that his mother's cavernous pussy was secreting plenty of its juices, which helped lubricate his every thrust. They each moaned loudly in ecstasy into the other's mouth, their bodies locked together in sinful congress. He kneaded her breasts hard, tweaking on her erect nipples, while she drew great grooves of his skin with her nails, while making sure to keep him in her with her interlocked legs.

"Mmmphh…! Mmm..! Hrmmmphh…!"

Their intertwined bodies grew slicker with sweat, allowing Lelouch to glide easier atop her body. The wonderful sensation created by the newly created friction increased the pleasure tenfold as the bed creaked under Lelouch's thrusts. His bedsheets, once pristine, were now befouled with their sexual fluids, as a steady stain spread out rapidly from where their bodies were joined. Steam rose from their sweaty bodies as the funky smell of sex surrounded them like a palpable cloud.

Lelouch's cock felt numb. He had desperately held on from cumming too early, and was now equally desperately plumbing his mother's depths, hoping to probe any pleasure nerves she might have. But he recognized it was a rapidly losing fight, and he would succumb soon. Instead, he concentrated on thrusting on a particular spot he'd discovered early on: and took care to grind himself against that spot with every thrust. Marianne's piteous whine against his mouth was all the confirmation he needed to continue his attack in that way. He began fucking her with full-blown, violent bursts of motion, causing his mother to tighten deliciously around him as she broke the kiss and screamed in ecstasy. Lelouch licked sweat from his mother's neck and bit hard there to leave a love bit as he lost himself to his rocking motion. Nothing existed for him any more than his thrusting, and his mother's body.

The single-minded devotion worked. Marianne pressed back against the bed, arcing her back as her orgasm swept through her. She threw her head back, her matted raven hair flinging drops of sweat all over. In that moment, it was as if her entire body had engulfed Lelouch. Her velvet folds pulsed and churned around him, making it impossible to hold on.

With a final gasp, Lelouch came with explosive force. Stars bloomed in his vision as he collapsed headlong onto his mother's sweat-ridden body, his stamina utterly spent in his desire to prove he was a man to his mother. He lost control over his senses, and allowed himself to drift off, carried away by coital bliss and the comforting sensation of being embraced fully by the first person who'd ever shown him love. He clung to her selfishly as he might have as an infant, and even if now it was tinged with a sensual, taboo slant, it was still a strong, primal force. For him, it was still  _good_.

When Lelouch woke, he found the room in utter darkness. A familiar song sounded in his ears, and when he concentrated, he realized it was a lullaby that Marianne was singing. Then he realized that he was still on the bed, and that there was another naked body next to him. In the next moment, he recalled everything that had happened, including the mind-blowing sex that had just occurred. He'd had sex,  _with his own mother._

He felt a soft, feather-light stroking against his cheek. He and Marianne had spooned, and their bodies lay close to each other, enough for Lelouch to keenly feel her warmth. In the dark, he was all but speechless in beholding her glorious naked body: as her fine legs coiled around his, and her wonderful bosom rising and falling to the rhythm of her every breath.

Then, he looked at her face, and locked gazes with her eyes. Marianne smiled warmly, and planted a kiss on her forehead.

"Good job, my son," she proclaimed. "That was wonderful. Wasn't it?"

"Yes," he stammered. "Yes it really was."

A long, tender moment passed between them, before they both leaned in to share another wicked, incestual kiss. This time it was deliberately slower and more sensual, as they lazily tasted and licked at each other's faces while merely luxuriating in the warm, toasty afterglow.

Eventually, Marianne rose on her side and started kissing Lelouch's chest. He stared quizzically down at her, particularly when she slowly slithered down the bed, until her head was level with his crotch. Then he let out a gasp when his mother swallowed his cock up to the very hilt, locking him inside her moist, slick mouth.

"Mmm… delicious…"

"M-mother…" he said, trying to move.

"Stay, stay, let mother service you, my son. I would like to taste your seed for myself."

Neither of them got any sleep that night, nor did either of them go down for supper. Thankfully, the servants didn't seem to notice, and Nunnally was currently at a distant school. That allowed them to fornicate endlessly, giving in to their incestuous feelings for the whole night. Lelouch tasted his mother's body fully in that time, as did she with his. And for some reason, the thought of making love to his own mother had lit a fire in his body: he was just as insatiable as she was and did not lack for stamina as he normally would be—a flaw his previous hookups had indicated for his otherwise stellar technique. The couple had crossed the point from mother and son to full-blown lovers, and Lelouch did not know where this development would lead.

The next week passed in a long, raging, carnal blur. A world of bliss awaited, and neither of them were willing to leave it at just the one night. Certainly, Lelouch would have thought it "gentlemanly" to leave it like that, but as he watched his mother during the next morning at breakfast, it was difficult not to see the marked change in her demeanor towards him. The two were more conscious of each other now, blushing and looking away whenever their eyes met. During a conversation, they even spoke haltingly, like they had become strangers.

And yet, when the servants had disappeared, and they were left in private, the two couldn't keep their hands to themselves. A long, loud and lewd makeout session in the pantry hall became an impromptu blowjob from Marianne, as she went down on her son, her savage technique causing his knees to buckle from the sheer pleasure. It blew his mind as he fed her globs of his semen, which she dutifully drank in great, thirsty gulps. This invariably led to his mother hiking up her dress and letting Lelouch pound her derriere from behind, as they lost all semblance of control and mated right there amidst all the stacks and shelves of food and food supplies.

It was a happy coincidence that Court was officially not in session for that amount of time. That meant fewer visitors would come pay a visit to Marianne to ask for this or that favor, and that no annoying herald would come and remind the Consort to come to Court every morning. And with Nunnally still in school, it allowed the newborn couple their small thrills as they ran around the villa avoiding the eyes of their own servants.

One particular morning, they spent hours just soaking themselves in their great bath tub, their bodies grinding together underwater in a neverending cycle. Even when either of them climaxed, the other would just keep on moving such that there never seemed to be an end to the pleasure. The hot water eventually turned lukewarm as they splashed around inside, until their fingers and toes got all pruney. It even took a long time for either of them to leave—when Marianne climbed out of the pool, the sight of her slick bare ass was enough for Lelouch to follow suit and mount her from behind. An hour later when Lelouch was about to stand and reach for the towels, Marianne got hold of his still-hard member and tied him up with a boob-job. Two hours later, as they contemplated each other wearing only towels, they still ended up crashing together with lustful passion, throwing their towels away and making love for yet another time on the tiled floor. Eventually, they got into a spot where they were in danger of getting a cold from lying down naked on the floor, helpless, their hips and crotches sore, their legs unable to stand, until they both managed to slip into their nighties and head away from the bathroom—both extremely sated after the relentless sequential orgasms.

Some time later, it came to the point that neither of them were willing to spend another second without being connected by the hip. Marianne therefore sent the servants away on a three-day holiday, and pretended that she would be leaving herself to another Area. Lelouch would be living alone, but he was well-known to be self-sufficient, so no further questions were asked.

It was open season when the last of the servants bid farewell. Cock and pussy were virtually inseparable save for the instances when they had to put in a new condom. Otherwise, the incestuous couple spent every hour mindlessly mashing their crotches together. Being naked all the time became the norm. They did it in the entrance hall, staining the expensive carpet with their sex juices. They did it in the parlor, as Lelouch took his mother on top of every table there, marking the places where they fucked with their combined musk. They took turns marking each other as feast tables, plucking and teasing food from the other's bodies while making sure to add in a couple of pleasurable love bites.

They went for a picnic out in the beautiful gardens and there frolicked amidst the flowers like two summer sprites mating. He delighted to see his mother laugh and swoon, to see her face twist in ecstasy brought about by him alone. They spent quite a long while in the gardens, fully naked and basking under the Pendragonian sun with only each other for company and nature surrounding them. They enjoyed making love amidst the sunset glow, and even shared one final fuck under the stars before cuddling together inside the thick blankets they'd laid out. Their bodies pressed firmly together, with the starry skies as their witnesses, lying utterly naked beside the woman he loved intensely, Lelouch felt primal joy like no other.

It was there that his thoughts started to wander. Lying there, with his mother curled up beside him, Lelouch felt like he was the master of the universe. Thus, by that same logic, was he not entitled to his mother, and so much more? A different sort of lust grew within him. It sought to reproduce, to breed, to impregnate. He would have his children.

When the three-day holiday ended, so did their many hours of pleasure. Still, their escapades continued, burning hotter than ever because of the separation; but it seemed nothing would ever equal the intensity of their passion on those days they were left alone. And as for Lelouch, his own desires rose up as to be overpowering, but he smothered that beneath the cold-blooded examination of the circumstances. He still wasn't sure if Mother would accept his proposal.

"How's my baby boy," she cooed currently, while she pressed her cheek to his cock. She wrapped her fingers around the base of his shaft and pumped it. "I've missed you…"

Lelouch sighed in pleasure as his mother's breath tickled his pubes. Even after so many blowjobs, his mother's mouth still had its own irascible technique that never got old. It was the way she alternated the rolling of her tongue around his shaft, which always seemed to be able to hit his most sensitive spots, it was the way she sounded when she sucked on him, wet and lewd; it was the way she gazed up at him adoringly while she lovingly attended to her son's penis, as if she were cleaning it as a matter of course. Many times his desire to dirty that mouth, to dominate her utterly, had caused him to facefuck her. But not today. As he threaded her hair, she giggled while flicking her lips back and forth over his bulbous tip.

She smacked her lips as she withdrew from his member, satisfied that it was ready and stiff enough to begin penetrating her. When Marianne reached for the condom as usual, Lelouch impulsively reached out to stop her.

"Lelouch?" she asked, brows raised.

He paused. "Can we not?"

"Not… used the condom? But you know full well—"

"I know," he said. "I know." He gripped her shoulders tightly. "Mother, I…"

"Lelouch?"

He pulled her to her feet instantly, his manhood pressed eagerly against her flesh. Though his mother struggled, she couldn't seem to escape his grip, nor did she seem to have the heart to attack her son.

"Lelouch, please," she pleaded. "Return to your senses!"

"I love you mother," said he. "I love you so much!" He cupped her tits and squeezed. He positioned his cock between her tight, fleshy thighs until he could barely feel her glistening, puffy vulva. Marianne could only whine, like a bitch about to be bred. He was pleased; though she wasn't eager, her pussy was wet and inviting, and for the moment, that was all that mattered. Thus, without any more preamble, he thrust into her, completely sheathing himself to the root in one go.

"Augggh!" Marianne moaned loudly. Even Lelouch could not help but howl like a wounded dog, damn the consequences if the servants heard! Inserting himself in without a condom was so raw and stimulating! It was a whole new sensation entirely!

Lelouch began to thrust in and out, captured by his delusions, seeking his own pleasure, as he sought to ream and pierce his mother's cunt. It was as if he was slowly building up to some grand climax, and this was his way of doing it: by slowly boring through his mother's love tunnel like he were digging for riches.

Marianne could only sniffle as she bit into her fingers to stop herself from mooning loudly like some heifer. Frankly, it seemed that the feel of his raw cock within her had excited some primal animal instinct, and now she sought to rival his thrusts with her own ready squeezes and strokes of her inner folds, as if she was daring him to give him all he had. And Lelouch's mind was only too happy to reciprocate by increasing the pace of his thrusts, as lewd juices started raining down from Marianne's cunt.

"Ahn...! Ahhh! Noooo!" she cried, as her mind exploded into a million sparks. Her orgasm rocked her whole body, reverberating down to her tight pussy folds. Lelouch resisted the urge to cum, resisted the memory of being milked by her masterful cunt. He rode her wave with the aim of surpassing it, of using the momentum of his passion to create a full-blown climax at the end of it, and he could not waste it on small victories. His body therefore responded to his indomitable spirit, granting him a burst of stamina that was usually unheard of for a guy of Lelouch's physique.

Therefore, he reached down to rub over the surface of her trimmed cunt, palming over her clitoris to tease and flick it until she was practically howling into her skirt from the sheer amount of pleasure exploding from her sore, used pussy. Her butt cheeks turned red and raw from the relentless slapping contact of his crotch against hers.

"Mother! Mother!" he cried, burying his cock in as deep as he could go. This sinful embrace, coupled with his essentially forcing himself on her, practically meant Lelouch could not hold on for much longer. Therefore, he quickened his pace, even as his balls seized upward and a delicious tingle came hurtling through his spine. Hot, white semen erupted from the tip of his cock and flooded his mother's womb, coating it liberally with his incestuous seed. Marianne screamed and hugged him closer, squeezing his entire body as the warm sensation of being inseminated filled her and spread throughout her whole body.

Panting, Lelouch could only bury his face against his mother's flesh as his cock continued to pulse inside her, sending gallons of his seed into her womb. Marianne sighed as her orgasm subsided, patting her son's head absently as she felt wave after wave of his cum splash into her.

After his orgasm ended, Lelouch had no idea what to do. His slightly softening penis was still sheathed within his mother, and their bodies were still pressed together. Yet he was tense, as if he were waiting for the blow to come.

It did: a short bop on the head.

"You idiot boy," she said in a hushed whisper. She took his chin and made him look into her eyes. "You foolish boy. Do you know what you've done?"

He closed his eyes. "I…"

Then his mother leaned in close, and whispered huskily into his ear: "Whatever you did, do it again."' His eyes lit up and saw that his mother had a coquettish look on her face. Her pussy squeezed pointedly around him, causing his member to rise back to full mast.

"Mother!" he cried, kissing her.

Displaying, for that series of instants, a stupendous amount of muscular power and stamina far beyond what he was normally capable of, Lelouch carried his mother by her legs while her arms clung around her neck, out to the halls and all the way back to her room. Their lips remained locked with the other's in a passionate haze, his penis continued to grind into hers.

In that brief moment, Lelouch thought of nothing more than of making this lovely woman his and his alone. Though a rational part of him pointed out the many difficulties involved, he nevertheless fucked Marianne with the thought of ultimately making the woman who'd birthed him his wife.

When they came to the bed they never once disengaged from their mating position. Marianne leaned back against the pillow, posing like a motherly queen, her arms outstretched to take him in and embrace him as Lelouch began to dive into her cunt with renewed vigor. The two of them gasped and whined, so filled with love and pleasure like lovers reunited at last. It was the most intimate coupling they'd ever begun so far, and it was all because it built up to something quite lovely and romantic. Their bodies moved together with primal instinct—no longer having the hesitant traces of knowing something was taboo. No, this was the natural coupling of man and woman, of cock and cunt, of two beings becoming one. He slid in and out of her hot and velvety birth tunnel with a prolonged groan, while she moaned every time his thick stiffness breached the area of her cervix to kiss her womb. Neither of them lasted long: they came together in a grand climax, as the two held each other's bodies tighter than ever, Marianne's heels locking behind his butt and Lelouch's face practically buried between her twin melons. It was the most intimate, soulful thing they'd ever done, and they weren't even close to being  _done_.

For however much he pumped her, and no matter how much she milked him, they were still not satisfied. They remained locked in a trance of sexual awakening, seeking every ounce of pleasure from the other and for themselves in an endless cycle of climax and rhythm. They were as two souls spiraling around each other, their hearts beating in unison, their bodies locked together in the breathless desire to breed. Every precious second of that moment was bliss, and they were mutually determined to keep the moment going.

Lelouch lost himself, going on auto-pilot almost as his body took over in ravishing his mother's body. In, out, long thrusts to the hilt, short thrusts to tease the G-spot. He might've already reached the point of his exhaustion ages ago, and yet his spirit continued to make love to his mother even when his body was failing. And it didn't help that his mother continued to respond eagerly to his touch, rocking her hips and clenching around his arousal like a gorgeous, insatiable succubus.

Frankly, it was still astonishing to him to have the literal Britannian goddess of the battlefield in bed with him. Her cold and brusque image in public was a far cry from this buxom woman thrashing beneath him, moaning sweetly, her cheeks flushed and red, her bosom ripe and open to his hands, her legs locked slovenly around him, and her womb filled to the brim with his cum. She was, in his opinion, the greatest woman he would ever meet, and here he was, attempting to impregnate her, to make of her a mother yet again, sired by her own son.

"M-Mother… love… love you..!" he cried, muffling his voice in between her breasts as he plowed into his lady love again and again.

"Yes! Oh, Lelouch, you bad boy. You bad, bad boy, give it to me! Fill me up! Give me a baby, aaaahhh~!"

Their climax was a divine experience they would probably never have again. Marianne's body shook, her arms and legs instantly plastering him tighter against hers, more than they were doing already. At the same time, Lelouch felt a swooping sensation run through his spine as his balls rose and constricted. In that precise moment the two lovers felt like they were tipping over an edge, and frozen in time. Then their eyes met, and an unknown message passed between them. No words needed to be said. The warmth and tenderness they felt for the other was everything.

Then, the moment passed, and they fell into the raging waves of their passion, exploding like a million suns. Marianne sobbed, tears falling down her cheeks. Lelouch kissed her again and again, his mouth tasting salt and sweet in equal measure. His manhood gushed out his fresh seed over and over, filling her fecund womb with the baby-making batter. For the hundredth time, her pussy muscles contracted around his pulsing member, milking him climax for all he could give her.

And then—the moment passed, and they both collapsed on the bed in a sweaty tangle of limbs. Marianne's hair was a mess, smeared with his semen and her sweat, Lelouch's head lolled between her breasts, his stamina finally spent after all those hours of breeding. They breathed as one; their hearts beat as one. His mother sought out his hand, then clasped it against hers, holding on to him like he were her last resort. Slowly, the exhausted lovers drifted off to sleep, their barely mumbled words of love hanging in the air between them, as tangible as the air they breathed.

* * *

For a while afterwards, Lelouch thought his unthinkable ambition had somehow pushed her away. The next morning, he woke to hear from the servants that the Lady Marianne had gone away in the early morning, and had not informed them of her destination. Yet Lelouch had his ways, and he was able to discover from his people that his lover had gone without a word to Area Seven, which was coincidentally where her husband the Emperor was.

Thankfully, he was reassured of her intentions when she sent him a note by traditional mail containing the two simple words: "Await me." And Lelouch did, throwing himself into his blossoming work as nobleman of the Empire, and accepted a teaching position at his old university.

He would be able to look at her from afar, and as Imperial Consort she would always be in the public eye. He could not, therefore, miss the news broadcasted over the national airwaves that he would soon be having a little brother or sister, and that Lady Marianne would be returning to Pendragon within the next month or so to give birth. And so she did, returning home to the Aries Villa, accompanied by Nunnally, who had recently graduated. He was no longer living there, as his work called for him to live closer to it.

However, just as he was about to return to pay a visit, news came of her labor, and Lelouch had to rush to the hospital where they'd taken her. There he'd comforted a worried Nunnally, and then waited long and hard for news of his lover's safety.

When the birth was done, and they were allowed inside her chamber, Lelouch was left speechless at Marianne's appearance. She had somehow grown even more beautiful, lit up by a glow of motherly grace as she fed her new child with her breast. As Nunnally cooed and gushed over the baby, Marianne lifted her head and their eyes met. And then, just as in that fateful night, a million words passed unspoken between them. And yet it was easy to discern the one most important thing: that their love persisted, and their love yet endured.

"Hello again, you two. Nunnally, meet your new younger sister," she said.

Lelouch's eyes widened, his mind quickly grasping the way Marianne looked at him pointedly, with a small smile on her face. His gaze went to the child, and saw a tuft of raven hair. He gasped, his legs buckling.

"She's so cuuute…" Nunnally proclaimed. "What're you going to call her, Mama?"

"I don't know yet. It's all so sudden." She glanced at Lelouch, then winked. "I still have to wait for her father's input."

* * *

**An anonymous commission, thanks for reading.**

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	2. Chapter 2

**Note: This story is a work of fiction. It has many content of adult nature. If you do not want to read such content, please close your browser window or press the convenient back button.**

**TAGS: incest, monster cock**

* * *

It would not be easy to breach her walls, he thought. While there were a dozen ways he could infiltrate her entourage-for they were poorly maintained and managed-it was still quite risky for him to become intimate. Though overwhelmingly vain and possibly stupid, she was someone he knew he should not underestimate, knowing the strength of her influence at Court.

Such was the predicament of claiming the First Princess of Britannia for himself.

Guinevere de Britannia was a vain, haughty, and overbearing woman, whose position at the head of the female side of the imperial siblings made her almost as old as his mother. And yet, whether through secret chemical treatments or some other means of preservation, she retained a certain amount of beauty, framed by a formidable array of avant-garde garments and courtly pretensions.

For it was not a lie to claim that she was the premiere instigator of the latest fashion in the Empire. She actually owned the many boutique companies and store-chains that ran a monopoly on the Empire's many Areas, and which were a direct competitor to the European Union's own centers of fashion and stylish mores. Her many mercurial shifts in hairstyles, dresses, and manners of speaking were as much an advertisement of the latest wares her companies tried to push in order to garner a massive surge of sales from desperate noblewomen and even lowborn commoners who wished to emulate the pre-eminent trend-setting noblewoman of the Empire.

And while his half-brother Clovis was considered a more appreciable patronage of arts and artistic sensibilities in the Britannian world, it was Guinevere who held an iron grip on the image of a self-righteous prima donna, who with the flick of a finger could cause the bird population in Area Eleven to collapse if their feathers were needed to adorn her latest unveiled creation.

Naturally, for such a public personage, there were also a host of rumors that abounded through the Court, which was a fact-of-life especially for the children of the Emperor. There were whispers that she yet remained unmarried because of an unhealthy appetite for the flesh of young virgins, or that she had a long, ongoing affair with this or that house-maid. Some even turned to the subject of incest, which was understandable because of the scandal that was still fresh in the Court's minds.

By far the most prominent rumor, however, was that Guinevere was prone to hosting debauched parties in her manor and disguising them as simple balls or petite gatherings. And as seemed to always be the case, this one ended up being true.

Lelouch took another glance around him, at all the masked revelers currently enjoying their drinks. It was a party organized by Guinevere: a masquerade where the one sole rule as attested by the invitation letter was to always remain masked. Anything else was entirely optional, as thus proved by the flimsily-attired, almost nude appearance of the invited guests surrounding Lelouch. Smoked incense filled the room as the people lounged on the many soft cushions and smooth rugs, and feasted on hors d'oeuvres amid echoing laughter; while most acted with far more impropriety than was expected by touching each other's bodies without reserve.

Even Lelouch had received his share of attention, as he was also only dressed in long trunks, and a Chippendale-style outfit of bow-tie collar and cuffs. He received coaxing invites from both men and women, which he politely declined by staying silent, like a statue. Thanks to intelligence procured from previous reconnaissance, he knew just this much was enough to deflect these types.

For weeks now he had used an extensive network of surveillance tools and personal infiltration to study his half-sister's bacchanals. He had committed the whole mansion's structure to memory, memorized every staff member working here, had grasped every conceivable form of party etiquette, and had tailored his current identity to better work towards his goals. In the past parties he had disguised himself as one of the help, who were appreciated but were nonetheless forbidden from being interacted with by party rules. Now, he was a guest, and what was more, he was angling himself to become his half-sister's "special" guest.

It was obvious to every other guest looking on what the group of scantily-dressed males were doing in the midst of the party, waiting patiently like statues. From large, muscular-bodied men to lithe, toned bodies like Lelouch's, they all waited patiently like loyal dogs. For these people it was a chance to become one of Guinevere's chosen. Lelouch had witnessed it himself multiple times: from this group a few would be chosen, then taken to her chambers. Whatever they did there excited the party's imagination, but Lelouch knew what really happened.

In there, the chosen few would be ordered to do as the Princess bid, like ancient, naked Knights-errant, and whoever intrigued or fulfilled some hidden criteria in Guinevere's mind would be ultimately allowed to be intimate with her. Though, Lelouch had also witnessed instances of Guinevere becoming bored, or distracted, leaving her "chosen" in the lurch while their mercurial mistress did something else.

As the party dragged on, the spotlight bloomed towards the center of the party, causing a barrage of cheers to erupt. From there a figure came up, clad in near-transparent lavender silks, and wore a mask bedecked by glittering jewels.

Lelouch looked closely at this woman, paying particular attention to her body figure and the finer details on her mask. After a long moment of scrutiny, he reached his conclusion and let his body relax.

The woman spoke in a loud, commanding voice, thanking the guests for coming to "her" soiree, and promising that the mansion was well-stocked to grant them all yet another wonderful night they would never forget. Lelouch paid little attention to the speech and the raucous cheers that rose when she was finished; contrary to what she wanted these people to believe, that woman was  _not_  Guinevere, which meant that "plan A" was scratched off from the list of schemes inside his head.

Still, not all was lost. If Guinevere had sent a lackey with convincing voice and body type closely similar to hers come up on stage to take her place, that usually meant she was busy at the moment, and was due to come out soon after the party began in earnest. Amidst the drunken bustle and the sweet stench of sex and arousal that began to waft through the room, Lelouch stayed with his fellow hopefuls and remained in the same position. He was fully confident in what was to come.

It wasn't easy to remain calm in the face of all the scenes of depravity that were quickly snowballing before his eyes. The solution was simple: just give in to his bodily urge. His instant hard-on was no embarrassment in this den of savage delights. It was also a tool he was entirely ready to use.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted movement. There, a woman wearing nigh see-through silks began to examine the line of people waiting like him. She cupped their chins, ran her fingers through their muscles, as if she were sampling slaves at some ancient market. Lelouch, for his part, almost frowned to see that the mask she wore was different: but for now, he was 99% sure this was indeed his half-sister Guinevere, come to claim her boy toys for the evening. Already a small line of those she'd accepted followed along like obedient dogs, eager for a meal. And those whom she'd rejected now melted into the greater party, to drown their disappointment in the pleasures of the flesh.

"And what of you?" he heard his half-sister whisper when she came upon him. "A little lean, aren't you? Might you be a boy-whore?" Lelouch remained placid despite the cruel barb. Though his heart beat hard in his chest, as everything now hinged on Guinevere's decision.

"Let's see now." Without shame or hesitation, she leaned down to cup his crotch, and had a generous feel of his arousal beneath the fabric. She made a sound that seemed approving. Lelouch waited another moment in bated breath before Guinevere nodded, and gestured for him to follow. Breathing out a sigh, he took his place at the end of the line as his half-sister moved on to the rest of the prospects.

He was fortunate yet again at the end of the appraisal, as he seemed to be the last and only prospect Guinevere found amusing. After doing a quick head-count of her chosen, Lelouch's mind quickly calculated his next course of action.

As they left the raucous party behind and followed their mistress into the relative quiet of her mansion, Lelouch sprung into action. Embedded into his mask were a number of fast-acting sedatives delivered through a quick prick of a needle. He jammed the first one into the person in front of him, clamping a hand over his mouth to quiet his cries before dumping him in a side-room Lelouch had scouted out before. Then he rejoined the line without anyone the wiser.

In this way did he methodically eliminate all the other obstacles to his current scheme, knocking them out then relocating them swiftly before anyone could notice. Whether tall or short, well-built or thin, all fell to the fast-acting poison her shot into their veins. And Guinevere never seemed to notice her group was dwindling one by one: perhaps she simply couldn't fathom her loyal dogs not following behind her as she commanded.

When they finally reached her innermost chambers, Guinevere made a beeline for the drinks set on her table. There were only three of them left. Without even glancing at them, she dispatched them off to retrieve an object she had supposedly "hidden" somewhere. This was yet another sort of contest she liked to spring on her toys: granting her ultimate favor to those who triumphed.

While it would be child's play for Lelouch to do so, he had his scheme to consider. And these other two remainders were in the way. He therefore dispatched them in short order, fully taking advantage of their being alone to knock them out without anyone realizing. Afterwards, only Lelouch was left, and he slowly made his way back to his half-sister's side.

"Back so soon?" she remarked, while pulling heavily from her shot glass. "I thought I asked the maids to hide it better—what is that?" She goggled, drunkenly at what Lelouch was holding out. She looked from it to his face. "But that's not what I asked you to—"

Striking as fast as a snake, Lelouch stuffed the fabric onto Guinevere's face, then grabbed her glass from her hand before she could drop it. While she struggled, surprised, he flicked one special dart into her neck, causing her body to slump immediately from the combined effects of the sedating vapor pressed against her nose and the drug he'd injected.

As Guinevere lay slumped, insensate, Lelouch hastily set about to preparing the chamber for his use. Using a special keycode, he informed her guards not to let anyone inside the chambers for whatever reason: a sign he knew she usually reserved for outstanding men she anticipated on enjoying without interruption. The guards would also take care of the party outside, ensuring none of the guests followed through on a fool idea to enter her chambers.

Next, Lelouch set up the various recording devices all around the room. On his last "day" on the job he had secreted it inside a hidden chamber that no one in the household knew about. He was privately thankful that Clovis had not been too zealous in pursuing an investigation of all the Pendragon mansions. Then again, his brother the Third Prince was preoccupied with his governorship in the colonies.

Lastly, he attended to his half-sister. He laid her down on her vast Imperial bed, then stripped her of her skimpy garments. He paused to marvel at her voluptuous body. For so long she had shirked the traditional image of a gracious Princess: no, she was to be the most vivacious, most daring and avant-garde of all. The tattoo of the rose on her breast was proof enough of that, but he hadn't realized that she had also grafted additional marks on her body. The elaborate and sexually suggestive glyph that had been marked over her crotch was one thing he hadn't expected to see. (though he had witnessed her take men into her bed during his surveillance, he drew the line at outright voyeurism of the deed) Turning her over, he was also floored by the additional marks on the small of her back all the way to her plump rump.

All in all, it gave a certain sort of dangerous allure to her mature body. She would never surpass mother in his eyes, and yet with what he saw now of her, he could at least perform well on his duty without feeling like he was fucking some ugly old hag. He tied her to her bedposts, securing her arms twice with linen and rope.

When he was certain that there was no risk of her escape, he prepared the "smelling salts" and awoke her from her dozing funk. She looked around blearily, surprised to find her arms bound up above her, and most of all feeling the cool air blow on her fully naked body.

"Your voice-box has been paralyzed, for now," he announced, from his spot on the chair next to hers. Her gaze hardened when she saw him and she opened her mouth in a shriek—but nothing came out. Her eyes widened in surprise as she tested her voice, which had somehow become quite hoarse.

"It's a precaution," he explained smoothly. "Wouldn't want anyone to disturb our private time."

"Private time?" she asked faintly. "What sort of foolishness is this? Untie me at once! Do you know who you're dealing with? Whoever you are, your life's over, do you hear me? Death won't be a mercy for you!"

"Guivenere de Britannia, First Princess of the Holy Britannian Empire, and well-known entrepreneur and fashion mogul. Your achievements are plenty, but only one thing concerns me and my colleagues." He pressed his hands carefully together, for effect. "We have seen you gallivanting about without marrying anyone, spurning even your father's desire to have you wed. Something needed to be done. Now, something shall indeed be done."

"Hold…" she whispered. Her eyes, once smoldering with anger, faltered when she heard him mention the Emperor. "Are you from my father? Please, this must be some mistake! Allow me to talk to him, yes. He will surely understand."

"It's too late," he intoned, shaking his head. "It is done. Now, though you quail at marriage and think it scandalous, we shall therefore grant you a scandal worth talking about. Do you see these cameras?" he pointed all around. "They are set to record our union, from every conceivable angle." Ignoring her look of disgust, he continued, "This is, of course, insurance, to make you understand your position."

"What position…?"

"That of a mother—regrettably a single mother, and a Princess at that-but a mother nonetheless."

"Are you kidding me?" she screamed, or tried to anyway. "A mother? I don't have time for that! What will they think of me, getting knocked up like some whore!"

"And they'll have evidence, if you continue to act up like that.  _Especially_ if you act up like that, endangering both yourself and the child."

"Let me go!" she cried, thrashing on the bed. "You can't make me—"

"Of course, assassination is another possible thing," Lelouch mused aloud. That had the intended effect of causing her to stop. "You have become somewhat of an embarrassment of the whole world. If you choose to ignore our demands, then our colleagues have been authorized to do whatever is possible to sink you. Think on that. In the meantime, relax. The act itself will be as nothing you have felt before. You may find your opinions changing—for the better."

Inside the bag where he'd hidden his equipment he produced a small piece of ointment. He daubed his fingers inside deliberately. Then he began spreading it all over her skin, cupping and squeezing and pushing.

She did her best to remain stiff, her eyes blazing at him. But slowly his slow massage seemed to smooth away her prickles, and her body started to ease into his touch. She was slowly being misled, because although he'd rubbed all over her body, none of it was sexually related, at least, not yet. He hadn't lingered long on her exposed pussy, nor on her plump boobs. She even felt some of her knots unwind, which was a surprise, and therefore she found herself jolting in surprise when his hands began to linger over her thighs.

Lelouch made yet another hushing sound. "We're just getting to it, my lady. No need to get all excited just yet."

She breathed rapidly through her teeth, and suppressed a shriek (though currently she could never have made one so loud) as his hands returned to explore her hairy mound. Her rubbed over there now, causing minor squeaks to escape her mouth. When he slipped his fingers into her pink folds she slammed her legs shut, but realized too late it was actually helping him. Her pussy tightened over his fingers, thereby causing her to feel even greater sensations than before.

Guinevere spread her legs back apart, bit her lip, and willed herself to feel nothing. But it was futile. He rubbed up, down, left to right, tracing figures and shapes over her sensitive mound, aided largely by the burning oil he'd brought—and also her renewed arousal, which spread its hot warmth over his fingers. Lelouch made no comment about it, instead focusing more on his task.

His plan worked. Though she continued to glare at him, her mind could no longer deny what her body was telling her. It felt good. It felt  _really_  good. It was way better than any of her conquests before, even during the times when older nobles took advantage of her then-naivety to despoil the Emperor's first Princess. And yet they were as stumbling  _boys_ compared to this agent His Grace had seemingly sent to her bed, which pointed to his professional nature.

Guinevere gasped and gagged, her legs thrashing around wildly as he probed and flicked over her sensitive places with earnest fervor, until her body was left a twitching mess, her pussy literally leaking a pool full of quim. With his other hand, he expertly fondled her boobs, stirring up an electrifying wave of pleasure as he worked her nipple like it was a dial, tweaking and twisting it between his fingers as he pleased. When both were fully erect, he pulled on her plump mounds and rubbed her nipples together like he were trying to spark a fire, which did end up working—at least in Guinevere's body.

"I hope you're more relaxed now, my lady," he said, as if he were merely performing something routine. His smooth, baritone voice was quite familiar, and yet was soothing to her ears in its own way. It was like she was really being treated to a world-class massage. "If it pleases you, I believe it is now time for us to move on. We only have tonight to enact our plans, so I will ensure that we shall do this for the whole night if we need to." She shuddered at the implication of being fucked for the whole night; that was impossible for the average male, and yet he had the confidence..?

Unbidden came to her minds the many delirious fantasies she'd experienced over the years, all the way back to when she'd been a newly budded maiden, when she yet thought that the whole world was not just a muck-laden place where one had to take control or lose it entirely. In these fantasies, she thought herself the innocent maiden, trapped in a tower, only to be seduced and slowly corrupted by a rakish man with a twinkle in his eye and a spring in his step, who would teach her things even her mother would blush to think of. As she grew older, the fantasy never really disappeared, even when she finally realized she could influence vast swathes of people with but a snap of her finger. Even as she wielded her body as a weapon to ensnare and dominate, a part of her yearned to be taken without quarter, to be claimed by a brutish thing which thought nothing of propriety, who sought only her body to fulfill its own desires.

Lelouch rose, and pulled down his loincloth. His large cock, half-aroused from seeing his half-sister's nakedness, rose to full attention once freed. He bared it all for Guinevere to see. Unknown to her, this was the cock that had brought Marianne the Flash to her knees. And to Lelouch, she wasn't worth the effort of his member, but for his current scheme.

Guinevere's gaze widened in trepidation: for she hadn't ever seen the like. And it was attached to an unremarkable body to boot: a man she would have dismissed outright as a mere boy, and now he sported a girthy, thick monster that was just about to claim her. Lelouch jumped on the bed, propping himself up on his hands. He then lined himself up against her exposed crotch, still gleaming with her liquid and his special oil.

He took full advantage of her helplessness and brushed his hands all over her body. His head leaned down to help himself to her pert nipples, slobbering his tongue all over it while making sure to continue tugging on her other nipple to remind her of the shock-like pleasure. Then he moved his mouth to suck on the other nipple, while then working on the other one with his fingers. In this way he continued alternating, back and forth, until her back arched from the blossoming heat that coursed through her chest and left her breathless.

He moved his way down, leaving butterfly kisses all over, exploring her stomach, her navel, then back down to her sodden entrance. He took a deep breath there, making her body tingle from the feeling of his hot breath against her lower lips. She felt him settle between her legs. She felt his long fingers brush against her folds, parting them, and rubbing them, and then she felt his warm tongue brush against her, tasting her. The many coinciding sensations made her gasp loudly, an explosion of sound that accompanied the rhythmic shuddering of her entire body. When he took her erect clit into his mouth and began to suckle with the same fervor as that of her nipples, her whole body convulsed, quite undone by his masterful technique. Her climax returned with a vibrant roar as juices pulsed from her secret place right onto his mask.

And yet, even in the face of her explosive orgasm, Lelouch never stopped. He lapped up her overflowing sex juices, his tongue rubbing all over her folds relentlessly and stimulating her already frayed nerves. She could do aught but struggle to move her arms from their bound position, while her legs twitched and shook as waves of pleasure pulsed outward from her beleaguered cunt.

Finally, he pulled his head back, smacking his lips and grunting, and leaving Guinevere with an exquisite sense of fulfillment, and a small part of actual longing and lust—which then ended up fueling her desire for  _more_.

"I hope that has sufficiently prepared you, my lady," the man remarked.

Her soul suffused with shame, she could only avert her gaze, her cheeks burning red after his rampant violation of her body. And he did all that all that while refusing her calls to stop, while at the same time finding herself bound and intrigued by his expertise. The man infuriated her, and yet she could not help but feel drawn in by his mysterious allure, as if he were the rakish rogue of her dreams. She could feel his erection, turgid and hot, just hovering out of reach of her moist entrance, as if he were teasing her with its presence.

When he moved to kiss her cheek, she recoiled, a reaction she had made many times before when her previous lovers kissed her. Though she was willing to pleasure a man's cock just fine with her mouth, she drew the line at the vapid act of kissing. Those who tried inevitably drew her displeasure. Yet now she could do nothing, but then she realized that he had only kissed her cheek.

"There are times when one must realize the situation," Lelouch said, misunderstanding why she'd reacted in that way. He therefore positioned himself between her legs, using his arms as leverage while his knees kept her thighs wide apart. From the way his hips were angled, he was lifting her buttocks up ever so slightly, and in this position she could easily see her own overflowing entrance when she looked down. She saw his member fall against her lower lips: a hot, throbbing tower of flesh. He moistened the tip idly against hers, letting him sear her from their point of contact.

She protested once more, but all of it fell on deaf ears. She was only able to watch as he eased himself inside, inch by inch, his face twisting as he met the resistance of her churning, tightening folds. Lelouch fought to keep the stoic look on his face as he struggled to fight down the lightning jolts of pleasure that came racing up his cock as he slowly sheathed himself inside his half-sister. He'd half expected her to be a bit loose due to her many past dalliances—but here he found she was still almost as tight as a virgin! His breathing grew ragged as he concentrated on pushing past the pleasure that was enveloping his cock, and was relieved when he was finally able to completely arrive balls deep inside her.

Her own breathing became hurried—it had not been long since her last, and yet the sheer size of his member was literally making her belly bulge. She had greatly underestimated his size. Now she felt full, and also felt the stirrings of foreboding. For if he felt like this with just one thrust, how would his repeated thrusts feel? How would a long, entire  _night_ 's worth of this monstrous member feel? Could she even take it?

When he withdrew, she felt herself exhaling a long sigh. His sudden thrust back inside caught her for a breathless loop, as it knocked her body upward against the headboard. He started pumping in and out, using quick, shallow movements to make the tip of his member saw against her sensitive insides, while also repeatedly flicking her engorged clit. This rapid movement quickly brought on a rising fire of pleasure to bloom from her crotch, and Guinevere could only clench her bound fists to keep herself from screaming.

Though being caught and tied up like this while being unable to do anything much about it was humiliating, she nonetheless felt her mind and spirit soaring and exulting in the degradation, like she were a bird finally set free after all this time. Her entire body felt like it was suffused with flame, a pleasurable heat that spread throughout every corner of her body.

She let go. She submitted to his relentless hollowing of her steaming cunt. She lifted her hips to slam against his crotch, meeting his every thrust with a handy squeeze of her velvety insides and a husky groan that reflected the delicious, shuddering desire she was experiencing. With every wet, fat smack into her bottom, her pleasure escalated. Even Lelouch was getting into it, rubbing and tweaking her nipples while he rode her hard, thrusting with deeper and faster strokes into her. As he was no longer a stranger to incest, he didn't feel quite like he was performing something taboo. Rather, he admired her delicious, curved body, which was scarcely affected by age, and was privately thankful for the chance of fucking it.

As he accelerated onward to the eventual release, he berated himself for underestimating his half-sister, while he was yet in the midst of his wonder at how good her pussy felt wrapped securely around his erection. It quite literally made his current job much harder when he realized Guinevere was actually a good lay, and not just someone with whom he'd "do the job" before dropping like a hot brick. His lust made his actions accelerate until he climbed to that high peak of pleasure.

Therefore, their mutual realizations about each other made it easy for them both to reach climax—and even at the same time. Guinevere screamed hoarsely, her muscles tightening all over, her pussy folds convulsing around his length, her legs locking behind him as her release exploded inside her mind with the force of a supernova.

"Aahhhhn! Oh gods oh gods oh gods…!"

Lelouch, unable to bear the squeezing sensation and already laboring close to the limits of his stamina, crashed down on top of her sweaty body, while his flesh rod pumped ropes of white cum deep inside her womb. He hissed through his teeth as he felt his cock run through the pleasure gauntlet of her cunt, so sweet and pleasurable did it feel to pump this woman with everything he had.

Wrapped in his coital ecstasy, he forgot that this  _was_ exactly what he was here to do. Still, he could not even attempt to move from above her while his ejaculation continued, helped by her tightly twisting tunnel. When he started to pull away, the sensation of his cock moving through her pussy kept him hard and raring to pump another load inside her, but he remained steadfast, expending all his willpower to not cum again in her amazingly tight hole.

As he stared down at her sweaty, glistening body, Lelouch realized that Guinevere had passed out, probably from her climax. Her legs fell apart, unlinking themselves from behind him, thus freeing him to move. Thinking quickly, he rolled over and off the bed, stumbling onto the carpet with a curse as he hobbled on over to check the recording apparatus. His whole body coated with the same slick sexual funk as her, it took a while to get everything sorted out. Lelouch had to check the guards, to ensure no one came to disturb them, then went over his plan again, restructuring the steps to account for what had just transpired.

When Guinevere woke, a few minutes later, he was already there, between her legs. In the interim, he had wiped down much of the mess on both their bodies, including the copious amount of cum that had flowed out backward from her womb. At first, she checked her restraints, before she then looked down to give him an unamused look.

"So, I assume this little farce is over? You already had your way with me, you sick, perverted man."

"Ah, but you did seem to enjoy it, my lady. Would you like a drink?"

"Hmph." She didn't look like she was denying the accusation, and instead chose to stay quiet. "I'd just like some water, or juice. I'm parched."

"As you command."

"You didn't put anything inside?" she asked, when he proffered the glass of water to her.

"Like a drug? Now why would I need to do that? I have seduced you well enough by myself—and before you mention the oil, it's just normal oil, used to lubricate my little massage."

"You mixed something in it! Some sort of… aphrodisiac that made me…  _feel_ things!"

"I'm afraid that is all in your head, my lady," he replied smoothly. "If I may speak bluntly, your reaction to our coupling was perhaps the result of your unspoken desire for more… fulfilling sex, one which only I was able to provide you."

"Don't be so full of yourself. I've had many more wonderful lovers. They were certainly leagues better than you."

"Oh? Well then." Lelouch smiled, then flipped Guinevere over so she was lying prone on the bed.

He turned her face to the side, where she panted, "What are you doing?"

He ran his fingers over her back. "To continue where we left off. And also to complete the massage: I am a poor agent if I did not  _thoroughly_ explore every part of your body, my lady."

"No!" she whimpered, as he began to pour oil all over her back. His fingers were the devil's work! She could not endure a second time. But this stranger did not heed her protests. He reached down and spread her breasts outwards, so her nipples could be kneaded from the sides. He used his knees to prop her legs apart, ensuring his easy access to her ravaged tunnel. From there, he went to work.

If it was intolerably humiliating before, now it was sheer, delicious agony. He worked her body like it was an instrument built solely for his purposes, and these purposes he fulfilled with judicious, meticulous attention. A fire quickly spread over the oil-slicked surface of her back, which then spread to other parts. Of course, Lelouch was also keen on stimulating the parts of her that would stimulate her sexual drive: such as her nipples and her dripping cunt. He kneaded her plump butt, teasing her anal entrance with the heated oil.

No matter how much she pleaded, begged or cried, he wouldn't stop. She resorted to cursing him, insulting his skills, belittling his status, threatening a great vengeance for his insolence. And Lelouch responded that this sweet torture would never end, until he saw she was well and truly pliable to be bred completely until she was ready to bear a child.

At this she ranted and raved, all while choking back the mewling whimpers of a woman in heat. But she could not deny she  _was_ a woman in heat, currently, being toyed with like a cat and its favorite toy. Many times did Lelouch threaten her with orgasm—and half the time he obliged her, sending her to heaven with but a flick of a finger, and at other times he denied her, making her simmer in torment within the hell of infinite pleasure. He would relent and make her cum, but the pattern would repeat, and she grew to dread the moment when she felt her peak returning, like she were waiting for the axe to fall.

The endless massage hell ended in a big bang, leaving the First Princess an insensate mess. Drool slipped easily from both her upper and lower lips, while her whole body was covered in a second layer of gleaming sweat. Lelouch marveled at how much the scent of her arousal now suffused the room, and tried to calculate if it would end up causing suspicion for the people outside.

After checking up the third time on the systems he'd erected, Lelouch returned to his half-sister's side and prepped her for another bout of penetration. He adjusted her body on the bed, making her buttocks rise a feet or two above the bed to give him easier access to her hole.

He waited for her to wake. When she did, he intoned, "I'm sure you can see the reality of it all now," he said. "I alone can make you drown with pleasure. You wish to resist? Remember then, that denying your body the release it craves will only destroy you from within. It is best to accept it, embrace it, submit to the pleasure our copulation will bring."

She was silent; but then again she also wasn't protesting like before. Her breathing was hard and ragged. In muffled voice, she eventually said, "You're going to pay for this. Someday, somehow, I'll make you pay. But—"

"But?"

"In the meantime, just shut up and fuck me, fool."

"But do you mean—"

"Yes, yes," she said impatiently. "Breed me, if that is your wish. Impregnate me,  _if you can even manage it_."

He tugged on her hair. "We'll work on attitude a bit longer. But it is good to hear your enthusiasm."

"You're nothing special."

"I will personally guarantee you will have no words once I begin."

"What are you—guaahhhhaaahhh! Haaaaaahnnnn!" Her words were interrupted by a sudden intake of breath as her eyes rolled up to her head. Just then, he had slipped his massive girth right back into her defenseless pussy, carving himself out a place in her soppy, undulating insides. He slipped in all the way to the root of his cock, his glans stuffed into her cum-filled womb.

Then he leaned down, as of a beast about to rut its mating partner. " _Now_ I'm going to breed you, old hag," he muttered in her ear, and he could practically see the hairs on her neck stand. Giving her no time to recover, Lelouch swung his hips outwards, then plunged back in with  _smack_ that echoed throughout the whole room.

The cameras recorded it all, just as they had been doing from the start. They got a good look, from Lelouch's expert handling of the lighting, at the First Princess's body and face as she was bred again and again by a man she didn't realize was her own half-brother. From the way she reacted, her face twisted in equal parts ecstasy and shame, her tongue lolling out and dripping copious amounts of her spit on her already drenched pillow, her well-kept hair now spreading apart like a wild Medusa, messy and unkempt.

With the oil on her body creating a less frictional surface, it was easier for Lelouch to keep up his cunt-pumping rhythm, allowing him to adjust his strokes in order to tease Guinevere anyway he wished. For example, he would screw into her with the rapidity of a beast possessed by estrus, pounding rapidly into her heated core and building up within her the next, explosive climax. Then, just when he'd sense that she was near, he'd make a full stop, causing her to groan and collapse, her legs flailing about in frustration. He'd torment her almost endlessly with slow, shallow motions of his cock, teasing her sensitive spots (she had many) with the tip. Her juices would leak copiously down her thighs, and he would feel her pussy lips trying desperately to churn around him, attempting to make him continue. She would beg "Please, please," in a whining voice, but Lelouch disregarded that until he felt she'd been tormented enough, whereupon he'd finally give her the release she craved. She would sigh in her relief, as her pussy contracted, granting his cock a mind-blowing vacuuming sensation which he rode with gritted teeth.

The cameras recorded every moment, especially the instances when Lelouch himself reached release. They recorded the ecstasy on her face when he pumped her again and again with his potent cum. He would plug her up with his cock long after ejaculation, ensuring every last drop of his seed would be absorbed into her, before continuing his mating. He ignored her protests for rest, for respite, and gently reminded her he was there to breed a child into her, not be her considerate lover.

Eventually, she did not need to be reminded, and instead shouted joyful screams as he plowed into her, pushing back with her hips on every thrust. He could tell her mind had utterly disappeared, leaving it a pliable, sodden mess.

On the very last time he would cum, he felt her vaginal walls grip him like manyfold tiny hands, rubbing all over him like a sentient thing. By then Lelouch himself was on his breaking point, even with the stamina medicine he'd imbibed. Guinevere was reduced to a wild-haired, glaze-eyed woman, her voluptuous body dripping with sexual juices, all traces of intelligence lost to the stupor of mind-numbing sex. Her pussy contracted instinctively, pushing him over the edge one last time as he filled her up with his white, molten heat. He could not resist leaving a bite-mark on her neck, feeling very much a beast in that moment, who longed to utterly dominate a female he'd bred. He collapsed on top of her, their hearts beating almost as one as their bodies moved and breathed in sync while the last transaction deposited another helpful dose of sperm in her ready womb.

She drifted off again, her reaction after every mind-shattering orgasm. Lelouch fought the urge to sleep, and through heavy-lidded eyes, withdrew from her velvet clutches. His enormous girth exited with a loud pop, which was quickly followed by a fresh surge of baby batter that stained the bed. Lelouch scrambled for another fixer-upper in his stash, his only saving grace being the voice in his head telling him to move, or suffer dire consequences. When he made it, to his relief, he nonetheless took a while to lie there on the floor and contemplate his conquest, utterly exhausted, but thankfully conscious.

He had done exactly what was needed. He had done exactly what  _she'd_ commanded. He fished the phone from his pack and dialed one number.

"It's me."

" _I know,_ " came a husky voice from the other end. " _I was watching the whoooole time, my love. You can't imagine the drawers I have to wash just to leave it out of the nosy maids. You gave me such a show, my dear."_

Imagining his mother masturbating to the sight of her son dominating his half-sister was not something he wanted to contemplate—as it made a part of him want to show off to the cameras even more. "I'm glad for that. What now?"

" _I've already arranged things on my end. We go with Plan E, my sweet._ "

He raised an eyebrow. "You want her? There?"

" _She will be a splendid play-mate, my son. If nothing else, she's got a better alibi for disappearing than_ Cornelia _."_

"Ah," he said, a little guiltily.

This strange quest that Lelouch had embarked upon had not been something he had initiated on his own. It was an ambition that belonged to his mother, Marianne vi Britannia, who had shared it with him upon her return to his side.

"I was raised from nothing," she had reasoned to him. "A flower born with a name that was less than dirt to their eyes. Though I have been given your father's honor, that fact has never changed." He remembered that her eyes had flashed then—dangerous and filled with rancor. "However, I can never forget how  _they_ have always treated us, treated  _you_ with barely the same respect they give to a low-ranking noble. I did find happiness with Charles, yes, but I would never truly be satisfied until I've managed to wipe off the smile from their arrogant faces. I'd long entertained thoughts and plans, my dear… It is all too common in Court. But to me it all seemed hollow, somehow. And so I waited and bided my time, waited until an opportunity presented itself."

"And that opportunity…?"

Marianne gave him one of her brilliant smiles. She cupped his chin. " _You_ , my brilliant boy. Your brilliant mind, that no one can ever hope to match. You are my greatest treasure, my greatest legacy. I had a plan, once, to make  _you_ Emperor. Mayhap it is impossible in my lifetime, but for now, I will settle on a lesser ambition: my vengeance on those who dared look down on us."

And the crux of his mother's vengeance was the humiliation of the various Consorts, whether through leading their children to scandal or outright elimination. The first target, then, was Guinevere, the First Princess. Her mother had long since died of a disease, and so therefore Marianne settled on humiliating her instead. And what better way than to ensure she bear the child of a Lamperouge, to ensure that Marianne's blood would have the last laugh?

Lelouch, acceding to his lover's will, accepted the charge in principle, though he was reluctant to actually carry it out. Due to the need to keep their little conspiracy private,  _he_ had to work alone. And that led to the events of tonight.

It turned out that Marianne had already prepared the way for Guinevere's impromptu retiring to the countryside, her whereabouts unknown. Instructions had been given in the Princess' hand to her known associates, telling them to run things without her for a period of several months. Lelouch was frankly surprised that his mother was as meticulous and devious in planning as him.

Lelouch glanced at the woman behind him, who was secured by ropes, and was completely naked and dripping in sweat, her eyes blindfolded and almost every orifice jammed by humming vibrators. The car's tinted windows ensured no one would be able to catch a glimpse inside it, and that no one would realize that the disappeared Guinevere was still just in Pendragon, to be kept in Aries Villa.

When he arrived, he shared a quick, soulful kiss with his lover, and mother. He could smell the stench of sex on her, making his hardon return with a vengeance. Whether or not Marianne noticed his erection, she nonetheless turned her attention to the one in the passenger seat.

She ripped off the blindfold, and matched eyes with a terrified, sex-drunk Guinevere.

"Hello, bitch. Welcome to my son's little harem. You will have the honor of bearing his child, just as I do."

* * *

**An anonymous commission, thanks.**

**If you'd like a story commissioned, feel free to contact me here, or on fanfiction.net under "The Ruff Pusher".  
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